it’s something I’ve always done. It’s always been when I was happiest, usually. I’m not sure it was ever a conscious decision, but I know one thing—if I can’t paint, I get unhappy very quickly.”
It was, she thought as she listened to herself, a very boring story. But only on the surface, because there had been nothing boring about her tours in Iraq, and there was certainly nothing boring about working with vets who had serious problems.
But at least he didn’t press her for more detail. Boring as it all sounded, why would he?
After dinner and dishes, he suggested they sit outside for a while. The night woods seemed magical to her, with a whole different atmosphere than the daytime. The air had grown cold but she hardly cared as she stretched out on her tarp on a bed of pine needles and looked up at a sky so full of stars she could hardly believe there were so many. She had seen them before, of course, in the desert when the air was clear and there were no lights, but it was a hard thing to remember exactly, just because of the sheer volume.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she remarked. “So peaceful. It’s hard to believe anything bad could happen here.”
“Depends on what you mean by bad. Nature can be as ugly as it is beautiful.”
“So you don’t romanticize it?”
“No way. I just love it the way it is.”
She liked that attitude and figured it was probably the best one to have about most things. Of course there were exceptions, but she didn’t want to think about the ugly side of life right now. She was enjoying the stars and company too much. And that awareness she had been tamping down sprang to life again. Damn, he was close, but not close enough. “I have a friend who has one of those fancy cell phones with a GPS. She points it at any place in the sky and it will tell her what stars she’s looking at.”
She heard him stir. “Let me guess,” he said with gentle humor. “You’d rather not know the names.”
“What good would it do me? The names are artificial. The beauty isn’t.”
“Like wildflowers?”
“Exactly.” A shiver ran through her as a cold breeze snaked under her jacket.
“Want to go inside?”
“Not yet.”
“Then let me help keep you warm.”
He startled her by curling up beside her and slipping his arms around her. He did it so naturally, as if it were something they’d done before, but she froze anyway. Was he making a move? Part of her hoped he was, and part of her feared it. But already she could feel a warm tingle between her legs, feel her nipples grow firmer as if reaching for a touch. All sense seemed to be slipping away, and even the stars seemed suddenly filled with aching anticipation.
“It’s funny,” he said. “Given my job, I’m a categorizer. I have to be able to describe every damn thing in order to understand and report on what’s happening. I can’t imagine seeing things the way you do.”
So he wasn’t making a move. Disappointment washed through her, but at least it allowed her to relax, at least a little. “Labels have their uses,” she finally said. “I imagine it wouldn’t do you much good to report that something spongy and green seemed to be eating holes in trees.”
His body shook a little, probably with a silent laugh. “I think I’d get fired.” Then, “Sh. Listen.”
She heard nothing at first except the sigh of the breeze in the trees, and the hoot of a distant owl. Straining her ears, she waited, holding her breath as much as possible.
Then, from a long distance, she heard a lonely howl. “Wolf?” she whispered.
“Sh. Wait.”
Half a minute later, the howl sounded again, but this time before it finished, another joined it. Then another. Each one was differently pitched, making an incredible harmony. As she listened, she could almost hear the howls moving even farther away. Then, rather abruptly, they stopped.
“Wolves,” he said, answering her finally.
“That was so eerie, but beautiful. How many?”
“Just a few of them. When they harmonize like that, it sounds like there are more. If you wait, it shouldn’t be long before the coyotes start. They often let the wolves know they’re around, claiming territory.”
“Is it different?”
“A lot higher pitched, with yips. More like a dog than the wolves’ howls.”
She had totally relaxed into his embrace, feeling warm and secure, and now it seemed natural to turn